#How much is 3 in 1 Amber Leaf

[torchickentacos]

How I draw clouds since they’re my favorite thing to draw! Literally nobody asked for a tutorial but I’m making one anyways! Note, I am looking at a reference photo I took which is always recommended in my opinion, but once you get clouds down more you can pretty easily freestyle them. Want to go from a solid sheet of color on your canvas to having trees and shit? this is for you. 

Step 1: put a solid sheet of color down. maybe an ombre, airbrush tool is probably the best here. Try to have a canvas size with at least 1k on either end, be it horizontal or vertical. We’re going to want it to look really smooth, not pilexated. 

Step 2: I personally never start with white or the lightest color of the clouds. Clouds are pretty white usually, but there’s a lot of grey and blue generally-I like to start with the middle-leaning-darkest shade, like this. Use a waterfolor-y brush or something similar if you can! Just makes your life easier. 

Step 3: SOFTEN THAT BAD BOY. Get a blending tool and just go at it. Don;t make it totally flat-you’ll want darker, heavier, defined areas to work off of later when we do more lighting- but make it a lot smoother. 

Step 3: Next, decide what direction you want the light to be hitting from. This is arguably the most important part-choose a highlight color (sunsets are so varied that it doesn’t particularly matter as long as it’s fairly warm-toned), figure out where the light is coming from (where the sun is), and work off of that with some scribbles in a soft brush. A lot of times I would use a clipping mask for this but I’ve actually found not using one gives you a lot more control in this situation. 

ok cool! So, take where the lighting is- the squiggles- and add to them in a circular motion. Then take that and blend it, becoming smoother towards where the light isn’t. This LOOKS like I skipped a lot but it’s simple- add a light color, blend it backwards. The color will be strongest where the light is hitting it. 

Cool! Now choose a lighter color-your highlight- and define your highlights. This should overlap the lighter areas we just made!!!!! Don’t add the highlight to areas we haven’t already lightened! Or do, I’m not the boss of you, but it won’t look right. 

Now, we’re going to do the same thing we did with the light earlier- smooth it out, bring it backwards, keep it sharper where the light hits it. 

Cool! Except it doesn’t look right to me so I’m going to add a middle tone between the dark and the light. Our light is peach and our dark is a cool blue, so let’s add a cool red. I don’t know color theory, maybe that’s incorrect to do, but I’m doing it anyways. Much like music, I play art by ear- I don’t know technical stuff (I’m trying to learn), and I just kind of throw stuff at the canvas until it works. Slight red added. 

Highlight once more. 

Blend once more. 

Last step, determine if you want to add depth. I don’t always add shadows, but you definitely can to make it more.... depthy. 

YOU HAVE CLOUDS NOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Optionally, you can add some perspective, which I can do right now. I’ll be lazy and use a branch brush. 

leaf it up in here!!!!

in a layer BELOW the dark red leaves let’s add orange, since the light would be coming DOWN. The dark red leaves that are shadowed would be closest to us. 

Rinse and repeat with amber and yellow until you realize you like it better with just dark red or dark red and orange oops. 

YOU HAVE TREES AND CLOUDS NOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WOOOOOOOOOOO! We started here and now we’re here! Great job on your new trees and clouds!!!!!

[dontgofarfromme]

[ID: Eight screenshots of highlighted text.

Image 1 reads: "And you know that I love you, Fool. As a man loves his dearest friend. I feel no shame in that. But to let Jek or Starling or anyone think we take it beyond friendship's bound, that you would want to lie with me, is--" I paused. I waited for his agreement. It did not come. Instead, he met my eyes with his open amber gaze. There was no denial in them."I love you," he said quietly. "I set no boundaries on my love. None at all. Do you understand me?"

Image 2 reads: "He did mean you, did he not? Well of course he did, though you may not know it. I doubt you know the custom of the people he came from; how they exchange names to denote the lifelong bonds they form? Did you ever call him by your name, to show him that he was as dear to you as your own life? Or were you too much of a coward to let him know?"

Image 3 reads: "Not by me," he replied decisively. "If you insist we must both take different names now, then I shall call you 'Beloved." And whenever I call you that, you may call me 'Fool."

Image 4 reads: "There it is. Plainly, Fitz, I told you I set no limits on my love for you. I don’t. Yet I never expected you to offer me your body. It was the whole of your heart, all for myself, that I sought. Even though I've never had a right to it. For you gave it away ere ever you saw me."

Image 5 reads: Just as I opened my eyes, the Fool's thought uncurled in my mind like a leaf opening to sunlight. And I set no limits on that love. "It's too much," I said brokenly. "No one can give that much. No one."

Image 6 reads: He lifted his hand. "Did you feel that?" I asked him. He smiled sadly. "Fitz, I have never needed to touch you to feel that. It was always there. No limits." Some part of me knew that was important. That once it would have mattered terribly to me. I tried to find words. "I will put that in my wolf," I said, and he turned away sadly.

Image 7 reads: I bent and kissed his brow in farewell. And then, grasping the rightness of that foreign tradition, I named him as myself. For when I burned him, I knew I would be ending myself, as well. The man I had been would not survive this loss. "Good-bye, FitzChivalry Farseer."

Image 8 reads: "Take your body back from me," I bade him quietly. And so we passed, one into the other, but for a space we had been one. The boundaries between us had melted in the mingling. "No limits," I recalled him saying, and suddenly understood. No boundaries between us.

End ID]

We are one

[ironicfury]

RE8 Ladies of the Village and their “Signature Scents”

Inspired by a recent post by @ctitan98, I have researched and determined that the Ladies of RE8 wear the following perfumes. I’ve included my interpretation of their romantic and sexual preferences (no hetero!), as well as discussion of their personalities.

(1) Mother Miranda (grey-romantic pansexual)

Mother Miranda does not usually wear scents. As a scientist, she is keenly aware of how scents may interfere with her work, and thus generally avoids wearing perfumes or any scented body wash. Her daily scent is somewhere between a cross of Ecolab hospital cleaner and decay (cuz she’s a moldy bird). Her keen bird senses also make her more sensitive to smell. However, as a deity, Mother Miranda will occasionally deign to wear her signature perfume, Selection Verte, when forced to engage with others. A unisex scent released in 1901, Selection Verte was also worn by Freud and is geared towards “intuitive and insightful” individuals (aka - the master manipulator). It is an incredibly simple scent for a very complicated goddess.

Selection Verte / Unisex / 1901

Henry Creed Fourth Generation

Citrus Aromatic

Top Notes: Citruses, Neroli, and Pepper

Middle Notes: Mint and Herbal Notes

Base: Ambergris

 (2) Lady Alcina Dimitrescu (homo-romantic lesbian)

Cuir de Russie, or Russian leather, was an extremely popular scent at the end of the 19th Century and early 20th Century. This provocative and shocking perfume was specifically created for women who dared to smoke cigarettes in public, which many viewed as truly scandalous in that era. As a single woman smoking cigarettes and performing jazz in the 1930s, the Lady most certainly would have worn this scent both before and after her Cadou implant. Though now discontinued, you can be sure the Lady has bottles stored somewhere in her castle.  

The composition starts with aldehydes moderated by mild nectar of classical trio – rose, jasmine and ylang-ylang. The ending comes as smoky, animalistic note of dark leather. The main notes are orange blossom, bergamot, mandarin, sage, iris, jasmine, rose, ylang-ylang, cedarwood, vetiver, styrax, leather, amber and vanilla.

Les Exclusifs de Chanel Cuir de Russie 1924 / Women / 1924

Chanel

Warm Leather

Top Notes: Clary Sage, Orange Blossom, Bergamot, Lemon, and Mandarin Orange

Middle Notes: Iris, Ylang-Ylang, Carnation, Vetiver, Jasmine, Rose, and Cedar.

Base notes: Leather, Birch, Tobacco, Musk, Amber, Heliotrope, and Vanilla.

 (3) Bela Dimitrescu (demiromantic bisexual)

IMO, Bela is a transwoman who idolizes her mother, so she, too, tends to prefer classic, complex, and heavier scents. It certainly helps to cover the scent of blood and death that clings to her and her sisters (though, here, too, I imagine that Bela is a bit tidier than her siblings). Bela selected this perfume as soon as the Duke brought it by in 1955 and has refused to wear any other scent since.

Youth Dew / Women / 1953

Estee Lauder

Amber Spicy

Top Notes: Spices, Aldehydes, Narcissus, Lavender, Orange, Bergamot, Peach

Middle Notes: Spicy Notes, Cloves, Cinnamon, Rose, Ylang-Ylang, Jasmine, Lily-of-the-Valley, Cassia, and Orchid

Base: Incense, Tolu Balsam, Peru Balsam, Oakmoss, Patchouli, Amber, Vetiver, Vanilla, and Musk

(4) Cassandra Dimitrescu (aromantic bisexual)

In sharp contrast to her older sister, Cassandra disliked being forced to wear a perfume or cologne. When she finally bent to her mother’s demand that she “bathe more often or cover [her] putrid scent with something” before Mother Miranda’s visits, she selected a scent that reminded her of hunting in the woods after a chilly autumn morning. She now wears it almost daily, much to the relief of everyone around her.

Chypre Mousse / Unisex / 1914

House Oriza L. Legrand

Chypre (or Citrusy-Earth based scent)

Top Notes: Mint, Clary Sage, Fennel, and Green Notes

Middle Notes: Oakmoss, Galbanum, Angelica, Fern, Clover, Mastic or Lentisque, and Violet Leaf

Base Notes: Oakmoss, Vetiver, Pine Tree Needles, Boletus edulis, Vetiver, Chestnut, resins, Pine Tree Needles, Labdanum, and Leather.

 (5) Daniela Dimitrescu (panromantic pansexual)

Of all the ladies on this list, Daniela’s taste in perfumes is the flightiest – varying nearly as frequently as her taste in suitors. Generally, Daniela prefers sweet, sugary scents, which sometimes (frequently) clash with her disheveled, bloody look, petrifying castle staff even more (“How can someone be so evil and smell so sweet?!?”). Daniela’s current favorite perfume is a recent, limited-edition release called Strength from Andromeda’s Curse. She may have only picked it for its brand name...

Strength / Women / 2017

Andromeda’s Curse

Sweet

Notes of Coffee, Frosting, Marshmallow, Whipped Cream, Coumarin, Milk, Brown Sugar, Vanilla, and Chocolate.

(6) Lady Donna Beneviento (demiromantic demisexual)

IMO, Lady Donna Beneviento is the newest Lord in the village, so her perfume preferences are less dated than most of the ladies on this list. Given her powers with the yellow flowers, it is unsurprising to many that this Lady prefers a floral fragrance. Per Fragrantica.com, Poeme, by Lancôme is a

[c]lassic floral oriental fragrance launched in 1995. The structure of Poeme is original, does not follow classic structure of top, middle and base notes. The notes of the composition are appearing alternately, like echo. The composition features intoxicating Himalayan blue poppy, white and yellow flowers (mimosa, rose, freesia...) and vanilla flower. Poeme is a poem in the world of perfumes; the contrasts of bitter and sweet create a special sensual aura. The bottle with this miraculous bitter honey is a synthesis of the contrasts – attractive curves and straight lines.

Other notes include: Narcissus, Datura, Peach, Plum, Mandarin Orange, Black Currant, Bergamot, Green Notes, Tuberose, Ylang-Ylang, Orange Blossom, Jasmine, Heliotrope, Rose, Leather, Vanilla, Amber, Tonka Bean, Musk, and Cedar.

[fleckcmscott]

Way Back Home - Chapter 7

Chapter links: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

Summary: Arthur married Y/N a year and a half ago. Now it’s time to meet her family in Missouri. Believing that building a life in Gotham had excised the pain of the past, Y/N accepts Mabel’s invitation to visit, unaware her little sister has hurdles of her own. What starts as a wish to connect becomes an exercise in old wounds. Y/N must choose to face them with Arthur - or alone.

Chapter warning: Adult situation

Words: 2,715

A/N: Thanks once more to @jokerownsmysoul​​ and @iartsometimes​​ for all their help massaging this into something readable! 😊

Downtown Boonville was a misnomer. Fountains were nonexistent, no monuments glorified long dead founders, the crosswalk hadn't been repainted since 1972. Main Street - the only street - ran a half mile long, flanked by two-story buildings, most wood, some brick, all with their best days behind them. The nearby mall, that death knell of convenience, had done a number on the town.

Athey's Hardware's and the Trading Post's doorways were a mishmash of broken glass and plywood. Big Pictures' marquee displayed fractured titles of older hits: ocky III, Of ice  and Gentl man, Last Un corn. Fogey's loitered at the corner, a bar whose entrance doubled as a cave even in the bright sunlight of late afternoon. A lone traffic light held domain until 6:00 PM, after which it gave up and flashed an apathetic amber.

But the sidewalks weren't deserted. Frayed American flag flying, the post office drew a steady trickle of customers, enough for Arthur and Y/N to be halted by an astonished "Y/N Thompson?" every twelve steps.

"It's Fleck now," she gently corrected, each repetition faster and faster until the sentence merged into a single word. Itsflecknow. Itsflecknow. She declined to go into any details about her and Arthur's life beyond a brief introduction. Kind and polite, she'd lead him away with the cheery assertion, "We've gotta go but it was good to see you. Gotham's great and we're great."

An assertion he was starting to doubt given her continued strangeness.

A frosted door caught Arthur's eye. Gold leaf Garamond listed "probate" and "foreclosure," terms he hadn't had any reason to learn, unlike "eviction" and "remand." Underneath it all burned the letters "Law Office of Jeffrey Thompson, Esq." Arthur squeezed her hand a little tighter.

Although Y/N divulging her divorce had induced an acute awareness of his own inexperience, resulted in a self-consciousness akin to finding a speck of spinach in his teeth after a must-see TV appearance, it'd never bothered him. Standing here in front of her ex's office - in the middle of town, double-paned display windows, freshly painted - a stich of inadequacy wove through him, a twinge in his left flank. This man had a title and prominence. Arthur had tricks out of a thrift store magic kit, notebooks filled with negative thoughts and amateur wisecracks.

She must have sensed his unease because she hugged his middle. "You're an expert witness in comedy, Mr. Fleck. That's much more fun." A bashful smile, the tuck of his chin as the salve of her sweetness soothed the twinge to a prickle. Right then and there, he threw an arm around her shoulders, the other about her waist, and dipped her to plant a messy kiss on her cheek.

When they finally stepped into Saul's Drugstore, Arthur felt the kind of gladness that springs from booking a new gig. Better than he had since he'd seen Y/N sidle to the porch without a word but with plenty of strawberry left on her shirt. Spotted the telltale pink puffiness of her eyes, had his concerns and attempts to hold her dismissed with "it's just silly sisterly things, nothing to waste your worries on."

How could it be any other way when his beloved was about to take him on what she'd advertised as an old-fashioned date?

Candy and canned goods, pill bottles and bandage boxes filled the shelving unit in the center of the shop. A wire gondola carried the latest paperbacks, everything from bodice rippers to suspense novels, replete with covers to tingle tangle the most jaded spine. By the cash register, matchbox cars and sports cards tempted children and cigarettes tempted parents.

Their destination was the soda fountain to the left. Red and chrome stools harkened back to a time he'd seen on black and white sitcoms, an era in which, according to Penny, girls acted like ladies and boys treated a woman right. ("Like Thomas Wayne. He's such a good man.") Perching on a seat across from the bar mirror, Arthur studied the row of taps and toppings. He ordered a root beer float once Y/N was settled at his side.

The serving was far too large. Ice cream dribbled over the lip of the frosted glass, all over his hand. He grabbed a napkin and two straws, stuck them in the fizz and foam. Their noses nearly collided when they bent to drink, a cliché that brought on the kind of grin he associated with pillow talk. Warmth swept through him. This outing was a drastic improvement from yesterday's trip to her family's swimming hole.

Making love on a beach had been a lasting fantasy. Ever since he'd tuned into From Here to Eternity on GBC after a late shift filling dumpsters at Pelican Arms, a hotel serving Gotham's most desired clientele (who never, ever tipped). While no waves spilled on the shore, no crests crashed into them, the sandbar had been private. If they were ever going to do it outside, this was their chance, surrounded by oaks and elms rather than pigeons and bag ladies. Y/N must have wanted it, too, considering how quickly she'd pushed the crotch of her bathing suit aside to accommodate him.

Laying there, however, sand silky and squishy beneath his back, something had shifted. Gone was her usual enthusiasm, her scrunched face and greedy cries of keep going, you feel so good. Fervid authenticity had been displaced by flat expressions, detachment lurked in subtle undulations. For the first time, it felt like she was doing him a favor.  

When he'd tried to put her palm over his heart, she'd withdrawn her hand. When he'd reached to stroke her center, she'd dragged his fingers away. He'd groaned that her black and teal one-piece made him crazy. She'd responded by telling him she wanted him to come - that she wanted it to end.

He couldn't and it did.

Stirring the float with his straw, he debated how to broach the subject of whatever was going on with her - or if he even should. After all, when Y/N and he had met, she'd respected his space. Allowed him room to grow into comfort. But this was different. They were married now. Comfort was supposed to be the norm. Wasn't she supposed to drop her walls and confide in him? That's how he'd always imagined it, what every love song he'd memorized promised.

"You know that scar on my foot?" Y/N asked, halting his train of thought. Her thumb tapped a black and white photo on the front page of the Boonville Bugle. There was a picture of a municipal pool and two proud men in hard hats. "I got it here, scraped it on a broken tile. It bled so much. I hid in a changing booth until my mother coaxed me out."

"I can't imagine you hiding from anything."

Her gaze lost focus, mouth agape in a manner that felt like admission. Once again, she was the woman on the porch. He splayed a firm hand on her back, a request for the confidence he sorely missed. For her to help him understand.

But she batted his forearm with the newspaper, rebuilt her invisible wall of secrets. "It's a long fall from that pedestal you put me on. One day you'll wake up and realize you had me all wrong."

"Y/N Fleck?"

Startled, Arthur's stare shot to the owner of the smooth, friendly voice.

An older version of the man in the prom photos sauntered forward. His suit was a small town's idea of expensive, shoes worn at the seams. Half a foot taller than Arthur, Jeff was as broad as a barrel. His salt and pepper combover provided enough coverage to loan him dignity instead of embarrassment. Though Y/N had described him as lacking spontaneity, his round face was relaxed, jovial. He had the look of a man who never stopped smiling, a man who'd won at life.

His conventional good looks made Arthur shift in his seat. That she'd had a whole other existence planned, a path he wasn't a part of, had remained a nebulous detail. As sudden as a kick to the chest, it was now as concrete as unvarnished truth.

"Leave it to you to be the only one to get my name right." Y/N sprung from her stool for a long hug. Arthur fidgeted with his empty belt loops. She patted Jeff's back collegially. "How've you been?"

"Good, good. Mabel said you'd be in town. I saw you admiring the new office, just moved in last month. How's life in the big city?" He pulled a handkerchief out of his breast pocket to clean his double-bridged glasses.

"Much quieter, since no one knows who the hell I am." She adjusted her skirt and gestured towards Arthur. "This is my husband, Arthur. Arthur, this is Jeff."

Arthur tightened his calves on a one-two-three count. What was the right way to handle this? Problems with exes were not usually a topic on Dr. Sally's radio show, and he couldn't recall one talk show segment called Help, I'm Meeting The Old Flame. The flash of heat at his throbbing temples annoyed. He didn't want to cause any trouble, not when Y/N already had too much of it. Pasting on a happy face would be best. Mouth stretched into a pencil line, he gave it a go.

After seven seconds of Arthur sitting as stationary as a wedding cake groom, Jeff extended his brawny hand.  "Let's make this easy. Y/N and I split in the sixties, and I remarried first."

Relief washed through Arthur's right pinky, enough to lift himself four inches to accept the handshake. He swallowed and nodded, uttered a soft hello, nice to meet you, even though it wasn't, then reached into his jacket to grab a cigarette. He lit up and tuned out. Tried not to think about how Y/N had had an entire alternate future planned with this lawyer. That the same quirk of fate that had put Arthur in his circumstances would have resulted in her spending her life with Jeff. If things had gone a little bit differently, if Jeff had put his hand on her shoulder at a needed second, everything could have turned on its head.

She never would have gotten a job in Gotham. Never would have moved to the big city. Never would have bumped into Arthur. Never would have kissed or touched or loved him. She would have stayed a Thompson forever.

But when Jeff asked about her job, she enthused about her firm's labor cases, said it was a specialization she couldn't have found in a small town. She spoke of Gotham the way Jeff bragged about his sons' good grades, detailed Arthur's work with the pride of a woman who'd married a Big Deal. Satisfaction tipped the corner of his mouth. Using both their straws, he took another long drink of root beer, swished the bittersweet liquid through the hole left by his missing premolar.

Having politely cooed over a photo of two boys in sweater vests, Y/N returned Jeff's leather wallet. Just when it seemed she was about to wrap up their conversation, send him back work so they could continue their rendezvous, she excused herself to the restroom, scurried off before either could stop her.

Jeff perched on her empty stool - a little too close for Arthur's taste - gaze fixed in the direction she'd gone. "Quite a woman, huh?"

Knees a couple of feet apart, Arthur did his best to imitate Jeff's easy posture. He leaned on the counter. "She is."

"I remember when she moved, running on adrenaline. She couldn't wait to get out of here." His voice lowered, wistful and melancholy. "It's good to see her happy. She deserves that, after everything she went through."

Arthur cocked his head. Though she'd given him a basic outline of what'd happened - her mother had died and she'd taken care of her father - details were far and few between. Apart from a couple of asides when they'd first gotten to know each other, she'd kept it close to her chest. And he'd allowed it, a decision that'd also had the convenient side effect of not upsetting her. But now he had a chance. Information he'd longed for was being offered on a silver platter, plated instead of sterling. Would it be wrong to take it?

He flicked his cigarette in the red plastic ashtray. "What do you mean?"

"Christ, she hasn't told you?"

"Told me what?"

Jeff braced a hand on his leg, stimmed his fingers on his thigh. The click of a tongue behind sealed lips. A heavy exhale as their eyes met. "Agnes was diagnosed with ovarian cancer around the same time Henry started to go downhill. She was gone so quick - it would've given anyone whiplash. Y/N had already found a lead in Central City, an opening in the DA's office. She had her resume all typed up. But she had to quit that to take care of her father."

Glancing at the restroom door, he continued, leaning closer. Arthur didn't move back. "Y/N sacrificed a lot. Too much. I told her that. But Mabel was still broken up about their mother and with the kids and Ed working around the clock... Y/N was the oldest and he'd raised her. She thought it was the right thing to do. She called me once in a while, whenever she couldn't get ahold of Ed. I always knew it was her - my wife would go 'Jehffffff...' Henry was a dead weight when he'd fall. Y/N was all alone. Every time I saw her, a little more of her light had left."

Alone. Y/N had been alone. That wasn't a word Arthur ever would have associated with her. She had relationships, a family. She interacted with others with ease. All her life, he'd thought friends and people had cared about her. Her school yearbook had proven how well liked she was. How on earth could all that have faded away?

He'd started caring for Penny as a teenager, had been the man of the house for as long as he could remember. Circumstances that had been thrust upon him with the dispassionate cruelty of chance.  Suddenly, he realized Y/N had been through that, too. She'd told him once she knew how hard being a caregiver could be, had offered empathy instead of pity. But he hadn't understood she'd been as stuck here as he had been in Gotham.

Gratitude flooded his veins, dizzying in its wake. It was repugnant. He'd never wish his darkest days on anybody, much less his wife. But there was undeniable solace in the affinity, in knowing she might understand what it was like to be alive but not live. Was it that commonality, besides their mutual attraction and kindness, that had allowed them to connect so quickly? His conscience bucked against the comfort in that question, for it was as unwelcome as an eviction notice delivered in a red envelope.

His chest constricted, a familiar feeling he'd had in the bathroom at Wayne Hall. Right before he'd been slugged in the face. "I- I hadn't heard." The grooves of his forehead deepened.

"Don't believe a word he says." Y/N's footsteps cut through the noise in his head, approaching until she slung her arm across Arthur's shoulders. "It's all hearsay, anyway."

Jeff chuckled. He stood and straightened his tie. "I've gotta be getting back to work. It was great to see you, Y/N. And to meet you, Arthur. Don't wait for the next Christmas card to fill me in." With that, he turned on his heel and left.

Arthur studied her. How much pain had she buried - and why had she shut him out? Why hadn't she let him console her so he could be the man she needed, the man he needed to be?

She brushed a stray lock from his forehead. "What is it?"

At the content quirk of her mouth, the questions he'd crafted fell away. She appeared happier than she had in days. It would be a mistake to rob her of it. He pecked her nose and feigned a wide smile. "Nothing. I just love you."

~~~~~

Tag list (Let me know if you want to be added!): @harmonioussolve​​​​​ @ithinkimaperson​​​​​ @sweet-nothings04​​​​​ @stephieraptorr​​​​​ @rommies​​​​​ @fallenstarsabyss @gruffle1​​​​​  @another-day-in-chuckletown​​​​​ @hhandley80​​​​​ @jokerownsmysoul​​​​​ @rafaelbottom​​​​​ @ralugraphics​​​​​ @iartsometimes​​​​​​ @fleckficgirl​

[cudan2]

One Last Surgery

Spring Break Shadowing Part 5.1

Carlisle Cullen x Reader

Word Count: 2,043

Summary: You finally find out the reason for going to the children’s hospital, but you’re more distracted than usual today and Dr. Cullen can tell. 

A/N: Tell me why part 5 of SBS takes up over half of the whole series? I’ve had this sitting in my drafts for 5 months because I keep adding more to it smh. Now it’s too long so I’ve decided to split it up into 3 parts (in addition to parts 6 and 7). I’m making the final edits the rest of this part now - 5.2 should be posted in like two days.

Anyways, this is technically the beginning of  #1 and #2 on my headcanon list.

Masterlist

XXX

Morgan Stanley Children’s Hospital is only across the street from Doctor Cullen’s office, but it seems to take forever to get there. You trail the doctor like a lost puppy through a skyway and a series of corridors before eventually reaching the right building. Different is definitely an understatement.

Gone are the linoleum-tiled floors, the abstract paintings lining the hallways, and the stark white walls. Instead, there are bright colors everywhere you look. Artwork featuring various galaxies and planets scatter throughout the hospital, and giant stars are imprinted along the floors; even the whole atmosphere just feels different.

You don’t get much time to analyze the differences though. Doctor Cullen is wasting no time to reach the destination, and his long legs aren’t making it any easier to keep up.

“Not that I don’t like surprises, but any chance you can tell me what we’re doing in the children’s hospital now?”

“Impatient, are we?” Doctor Cullen chuckles. He stops at an elevator and pushes the up button, only giving into your question once he catches a glimpse of your pout. “Alright, you win. Are you familiar with a cleft palate or cleft lip?”

The elevator dings, the doors sliding open with it. You shake your head no and get on the elevator with him. He presses the button for the floor and then leans against the wall, arms outstretched on the handrail, and gives you an explanation. 

“A cleft is a gap or split occurring in the roof of the mouth, upper lip, or both. It is due to improper joining of the tissue during fetal development. There are no definitive known causes as of right now, but it’s believed that the environment and genetics can play a role.

The hospital has its own craniofacial team, but I was asked to join this particular case given its more complicated nature. Hanna became one of the first patients I treated when I came to Columbia,” Doctor Cullen finishes fondly, a smile gracing his lips.

“What makes this case complicated?” you ask.

“Hanna was born with a bilateral complete cleft lip and palate, meaning her lip cleft is two-sided and continues into her nose. It took quite a few surgeries to repair the lip, but now the next step is to repair the palate.”

The elevator reaches the floor and dings. You follow Doctor Cullen out and continue prodding him with more questions, which he is more than eager to answer. It’s incredible how knowledgeable he is. Granted, it is his job to know these things, but you couldn’t begin to imagine yourself being able to even scratch the surface of these topics, not to mention give a mini lecture on it.

You’re soon standing at the door to a patient room while the doctor asks Hanna’s parents if you can observe. They readily agree, and Doctor Cullen motions for you to come in.

Inside the room, you see an infant that can’t be more than a year old – Hanna.  She’s sitting upright on the bed, leaning against who you assume to be her father. You notice two fading scars going up into her nose above her lip. Her mother is waving a stuffed toy around her, but Hanna’s attention is fixated on the blonde doctor.

“Y/N, allow me to introduce you to Hanna’s parents, Anthony and Linh Pham. And this is Doctor Giselle Adamou, who will be working with me on the surgery,” Doctor Cullen gestures to the older doctor in the room.

“It’s nice to meet you all,” you say politely.

Pre-op goes differently than what you’ve gotten used to observing this week. There is no case presenting given the lack of residents on the case. If anything, this is what you would expect out of a non-teaching hospital.

Doctor Cullen re-explains the procedures to Hanna’s parents, but halfway through, Hanna crawls to the end of the bed where Doctor Cullen is and attempts to stand, arms outstretched as if to say, “Up! Up!” Bewilderment is not a word you would have associated with him, and yet you catch the brief widening of his eyes that betray his usually calm demeanor.

“I think she wants you to hold her,” Linh comments.

“I can see,” Doctor Cullen muses. “Do you mind?”

“She’s all yours.” Linh picks her daughter up from the bed and hands her to the doctor. The sound of Hanna’s elated laughter fills the room, and you can’t stop a small smile from appearing on your own face. A cute baby and a gorgeous doctor? You don’t know who to thank for the sight.

Meanwhile, Hanna starts playing with various pens in Doctor Cullen’s breast pocket while Doctor Adamou continues where her colleague left off. You try to pay attention, you really do. Like Hanna though, your attention lies on someone else, and that someone else happens to be Doctor Cullen.

The more you study him, the more the minute features you never noticed about him before seem to pop out to you. Under the bright fluorescent lighting of the hospital, the dark purple circles under his eyes are more apparent than ever. How ironic for the preacher of health to lack sleep himself. His eyes, which you normally consider to be a vivid golden, are darker than you initially thought them to be. They are liquid pools of dark amber, speckled with dustings of gold and flecks of black. There isn’t a single blemish on his face that you can see either, further confirming your belief that this man is truly the most attractive person you have ever met. Either that or he must have one hell of a skincare routine.

It’s unnerving how young his appearance is. Skincare and diet can only do so much for a person, right? Doctor Cullen has to be at least 35 at the minimum, yet he could easily pass off as someone from your own school.

“Any last minute questions?” you hear Doctor Adamou ask and snap back into reality. By missing nearly everything the older doctor talked about, you already know you’ll be so screwed if and when Doctor Cullen decides to interrogate you on this case.

Neither parent has anything left to say, so Doctor Cullen gives a reluctant Hanna back to her mother. She lets out a cry and his expression softens.

“I know, sweetheart. I’ll miss you too, but I need to get ready for your big surgery, okay? I promise you’ll see me again in a few hours.” His soothing voice does wonders for her. In an instant, Hanna quiets down and her frown is replaced with giggles and smiles again. She waves the two of you off, and you both take your leave with Doctor Adamou trailing behind you. You’re not even halfway out the door yet when Doctor Cullen starts testing your knowledge again.

“Y/N, what procedure will we be doing to repair Hanna’s cleft?” 

You do not have this one in the bag whatsoever. You wrack your brain for information that could help you, but Doctor Adamou interjects before you get a chance to say anything.

“Why does it not surprise me that you’re treating students like interns already, Carlisle?”

“I am merely advancing the education of next generation’s doctors,” he responds.

“Whatever you say,” she laughs. “Don’t scare off Y/N though, or we won’t have any doctors left in the next generation.” She turns to you after picking up files from a nearby counter and says, “You come running to me if he pushes you too hard, alright?”

You grin. “For sure.”

“Good. I look forward to seeing you both in the OR,” she says before heading off.

You like Doctor Adamou. Each surgeon you’ve met here so far has had such different personalities, yet each also has the charisma and confidence to take control of a room and command respect. You, on the other hand, could barely get your own friends to listen to your own words. How are you ever going to get on the level of all the amazing doctors around you?

“She saved you there,” Doctor Cullen comments, leafing through Hanna’s charts as he walks you into an empty elevator to the operating floor. Oops, it’s just your luck that he noticed your lack of attention during the pre-op. “It’s unlike you to be distracted. Penny for your thoughts?”

The elevator doors shut, and he looks up from the chart, his eyes falling onto yours. He has that twinkle in his eyes again – the one that brings warmth to your cheeks and could make anyone weak in their knees. You know it’s silly, but a single look from him could make you spill any of your deepest and darkest secrets, yet a part of you also knows that he would keep it. You’re not naïve – you know it’s dangerous to put so much faith into a man you only met this week – but there’s something about him that told your instincts to trust him from the very beginning.

Call it intuition, or maybe it’s just plain stupidity, but you sure as hell aren’t going to tell him about how you got distracted because of his pretty face.

You hesitate for a moment and let out a sigh. “How do you do it?” He quirks a brow, momentarily perplexed, and you attempt to find the right words. “How do you make all of this look so easy? How do you know what the right thing to say is? Or trust that what you’re doing is even right? How did you know if this was all meant for you? This is really dumb, but it seems like everyone here was born for this job, and then there’s... me.”

There’s a slight sense of dread starting to form in your stomach. You’re unsure if what you asked even made any sort of sense and wonder if you gave too much away. Giving any reason to second guess your abilities is like digging your own grave when it comes to this career. Expressing uncertainty is one of the biggest taboos of the cutthroat world that is pre-med because schools would not accept students that aren’t absolutely, totally, and completely sure about this path.

You’ve wanted this for so long, yet there’s still a part of you that doubts if you would be enough.

Rather than going straight to gowning and scrubbing in for the surgery, Doctor Cullen grabs your hand and leads you down to an abandoned hallway, only letting go once the two of you are hidden in an alcove away from any prying ears or eyes.

“What are you doing? Shouldn’t you be getting ready for surgery?”

“We have a few minutes to spare. Y/N, please know that I understand how you feel,” he says softly. “There was a time when I questioned my own abilities as well… whether my perseverance could overcome adversity. It took quite some time to reach where I am today.  However, without enduring those trials and tribulations, I would not be here. With time comes experience, and it is that experience that allows me to perform my job the best I can.”

His voice reminds you of a gentle breeze, rustling the leaves of a tree on a cool summer night when he continues speaking in hushed tones. It brings a blanket of reassurance, a sense that things would eventually be alright.

“I have said this before, but I see enormous potential in you. You still have a great deal of time to grow and develop your skills. It’s easy to get caught up in comparing yourself with others, especially given today’s societal standards, but I believe you are much more capable than you may think you are. Everyone’s journey is different and yours may not necessarily be as linear as you would prefer. In due time though, I have faith that you will succeed.”

What he says is exactly what you needed to hear.

The swell of tears pricks at your eyes and start blurring your vision, but you blink them away quickly, fighting the urge to wrap your arms around the doctor. 

“Thank you, Doctor Cullen.” Your voice is barely above a whisper.

“You’re very welcome. Now, I believe there’s a little girl waiting on us.” 

XXX

Tag List - Message me to be added or removed to either this series or the rest of my fics!

@jelly-fishy-babie @notahappytree @anxiousgoldengirl

[thunderpot]

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 4.2 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 & 9

“So how about this? Early 2000s, very stylish, a bit of an Interview with the Vampire flair but with a tad more decadence.”

“Uh..I have no idea what you’re talking about-”

“You’re right, how about we do something more momma’s boy, maybe?”

“Shippou this is kinda…”

“Okay, okay, tough crowd you are I see.” The fox would change his glamour again and then try very badly to hold a laugh “This is…”

“What? Let me see!”

“Oh god, Inu--”

Inuyasha snapped the hand mirror Shippou was trying to hide from him just to see himself and throw it back at his friend:

“I’m gonna fucking KILL YOU, YOU BRAT!!!”

Shippou laughed, half running around in his room

“SHE WILL LOVE YOUR NEW STYLE INUYASHA WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT!!”

“Undo it!!”

“ARGH ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT!” He stopped, hands raised “Sit up, I’ll make things ok this time, normie” 

Inuyasha showed him a finger before sitting down and seeing shippou grab his new necklace

“Shouldn’t this leaf go on my head?”

“This is the 21st century, everyone would notice a leaf on top of your head- Specially a silver one like yours. So turn into a necklace and ta-da! Insta-fashion.” The ‘poof’ would happen shortly after and inuyasha would look at himself in the mirror again. “So? What do you think? I’m amazing, just say it!”

“This is.. Certainly different. Do you think she’ll..?”

“Just go, dogboi! I can’t hide all your features though, so those tattoos of yours will stay. Watch out not to flash them too much in public, eh?”

And with a nod, Inuyasha left.

----------

It had been a couple days since she had seen the cute dog in the park at night, but Kagome had soon forgotten about it. The university had been quite demanding; she had another paper to deliver in a couple of days, and that was all she could think about, the white-haired guy starting to fade away from her mind.

“Don’t forget to check out our sales tasting! The best cheese and the best sausages for a fraction of the price, only this week!” said the voice on the speakers while Kagome made her way to the  vegetables section.

She had been neglecting her own diet thanks to all the crunch hours needed to write the papers, but now that she had a bit of time, a properly cooked meal instead of instant ramen felt like a small blessing. The place was so full, however, that Kagome honestly questioned whether she’d ever be able to get out of the place after having gotten in.

“Some stuffed bell peppers sound good..they look pretty today, too” She casually checked out on her phone the ingredients for a recipe Sango gave her a while ago. She needed wine, some beans, tomatoes, peppers, onions and a couple extras for seasoning that she had at home. 

Grabbing a plastic bag to put her choosings, she was almost done when an old lady bumped into her, making her drop the bag as she bumped into someone else too.

“Oh I am so sorry!” She said as she quickly crouched to grab her poor vegetables. At least most of them were still safe inside the bag.

“Ah, let me help you out with that.” the voice came right in front of her. It was beautiful and kinda deep, probably the person she bumped into. 

“No, no, that’s ok I can--” Her voice died down quickly as she felt something like a small static shock when her hand inadvertently touched the other person’s “Ah..” 

And then she looked up.

“Such a waste, these looked very fine. At least the majority is still intact...”

“Damn, he’s hot.”

The guy gave out a small laugh.

“Aren’t we all, on such a hot day.”

Kagome’s face went as red as one of the bell peppers inside the bag. Did she say that out loud!?

“I-I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to--! Oh wow, way to embarrass myself.. I’m so sorry!” 

She looked everywhere now, except to the guy, that made no case of it, helping her out with the bag. And only when they were standing again did she quickly remove the hand she kept on top of his.

“Uh- I, hum.. Thank you.” She was mortified. God, she just found a cute guy and she had to embarrass herself like that. At least Sango wasn’t there to laugh at her face for the next 20 years.

“No worries. Cya around.” He said as he turned to go away, and only then Kagome finally had the courage to take a good look at him, her face still burning like wildfire.

“Cya...” He was big alright. Yes, he was. Hot, that was a good word for it. But his most striking feature was probably the silver-ish hair. She had seen that before. There was something about him..What were the colors of his eyes again? 

“Wait!” -She pulled his sleeve without thinking, revealing  two, maybe three rounds of tattoos on his right arm, to absolute horror of another old lady that was passing by, and a small curse of an old man doing his groceries. 

She had seen that before, for sure. Maybe she WAS going crazy. As he turned to face her she could see, for a split second, a shimmer before his amber eyes looked back at her. Oh god.

There was a multitude of white-everythings bumping into her, finding their way to her. There was something obvious missing, but that was no coincidence, was it?

“Ah, I’m sorry but hum.. I’m Higurashi Kagome. What is your name again?”

It looked like the guy took a split second decision before gently taking his sleeve out of her hand and covering his arm again, answering her with a small, unreadable smile.

“Nice to meet you, Higurashi. I’m Inuyasha.”

Shit.

[bored-storyteller]

how would Jack, Azul, and Idia react to an S/O who kisses them randomly throughout the day in random places like head, cheek, hands, etc. also i love ur blog 🙇‍♀️💕

Here it is, I am not sure what structure I gave to this, but anyway, three kisses to each one! So they don't fight. And there is Idia. My favorite is Leona, but I swear I'm loving writing for Idia.

22- Twisted Wonderland - Azul, Jack, Idia x s/o

Azul Ashengrotto

1- The first kiss is in the morning. Before the lessons begin, when the corridors are a forest populated by students, Azul feels himself being taken by the hand for a moment, as if someone wanted to attract his attention.

He is not surprised to see the eyes of s/o looking at him, but when he is about to ask what they want, they simply raise his hand, and bringing it to their lips they gently kiss his fingers.

That sudden gesture paints Azul's face red, but before the confusion leaves him to clarify the situation, the bell at the beginning of the lessons makes them run away.

2- Classes that morning are difficult for Azul. It is difficult for him to concentrate, because the thought of the sweet, unexpected feeling of that morning is always present. Also, the amused smiles of the Leech twins at lunch certainly don't help him relax.

He waited for lunch for a long time, to be able to see his s/o and to be able to clarify with them, but he did not see them at all. Neither in the cafeteria, nor in the garden, nor in the Mostro Lounge.

Sitting on a bench, he seems to have given up on having to wait, until a new, strange sensation makes his eyes widen.

A slight pressure, warm and sweet, rests just behind his ear. A kiss.

When he turns his head confused, he meets the sweet smile of s/o.

"W-What ...?!"

Again, a bell interrupts the moment, leaving him alone, with his desperate face hidden in his hands.

3- The third kiss comes in the evening, when Azul is alone in the Monster Lounge. S/o enter with a genuine smile, after a whole day of study away from him, and with a light greeting he approaches the boy, kissing his cheek with love.

At that point, in the solitude of the place, despite the red face Azul dares to speak.

"I never asked for this. All this affection."

They simply smile, chuckling, while their arms surround his waist.

"I know, it's that I like you very much."

And there at that spontaneous demonstration of love, Azul cannot help but sigh, holding his precious s/o close to him, while they kiss his neck affectionately.

Jack Howl

1- The first kiss is on his shoulder.

Jack and s/o are quietly doing a research in the library, they absolutely must finish it by the weekend.

He is leafing through a book he has just taken off the shelf, when s/o's sweet lips rest casually on his strong shoulder.

Jack, being the boy he is, he can't help but panic. His hard face turns completely red, contrasting with his silvery hair.

"What- What are you doing ?!"

But s/o's attention seems to have already returned (apparently) to the book they hold, and when they look up at him at his exclamation, their gaze is questioning.

Oh shit, did it really happen or did he just imagine it? With a little embarrassment and disappointment, Jack returns to what he was doing.

"Nevermind ..."

He mumbles with a deep sigh.

2- The second time he is sure he hasn't imagined it.

He did not imagine the lips of his s/o on his cheek. They are sudden and elusive, but today they lean on him without him being able to foresee them, as if he were a prey.

Again with his hot face he turns quickly to s/o, as if he wants to eat them, too embarrassed as he is.

He is about to speak, but his breath hangs in his throat to see their back turned towards him, in the distance, while they search in the library shelves humming carefree.

Now, with a slight pout, from time to time he glances at s/o. Even if he would never admit it, he loves cuddles.

3- In the late afternoon, the brain of a poor student who is busy with research from lunchtime can't take it anymore.

With a sigh Jack closes the book, and stretching his tired muscles he turns to s/o sitting next to him.

"We could go eat something ..."

He mumbles, looking at them out of the corner of his eye. S/o smile, happily nodding to the proposal.

Closing the book with a snap they get up, and with a natural gesture they bend down to kiss Jack's head, right between his soft ears.

Okay, now he has seen it. Slowly his golden eyes rise to go and look at their smiling face. The amber skin of her cheeks once again brightens, but she is trying to control herself as much as possible.

"What was this for?"

He asks, earning a sweet little laugh from s/o.

"Oh well, I want to protect you."

Oh ok. No, he certainly cannot control himself now. He could swear he had a fire inside.

He jumps out of his chair, growling to hide all his embarrassment.

"I don't need protection!"

S/o laugh happily. He is so cute when he blushes like this.

"I know, but it doesn't matter. As you protect me every day, I also want to protect you."

Well, he's sure he's burning now.

He runs a hand over his desperate face. How can he resist such sweetness? Jack is a nice guy, and very strong. Of course he will protect such a good creature in that cruel world.

S/o laughs, while Jack's face hides in their shoulder to hide himself, but also to smell their perfume.

Idia Shroud

1- Idia tries to move as little as possible. The less it sets foot in society the better it is, without a doubt. He is grateful to be able to have his dearest creature next to him in the moments available without necessarily having to meet her outside his dorm.

Yet there are cases in which he is forced to set foot in society, for example at a particularly important lesson. And in addition to having to be face to face with people, he is also forced to see everything with which s/o are constantly in contact even in his absence. It is easier for him to trust them when he does not see how much they love that world.

S/o know it and they see the sad expression that is painted on Idia's delicate face, yet they don't feel sad.

Gleefully they approach him and without saying a word grasp his sweatshirt slowly, to make him bend slightly.

"See you at lunch."

They murmur, kissing the tip of Idia's nose.

Oh goodness, what are they going to do to this poor boy? He is not used to this in public, at all. It must be red like a strawberry. But at least the melancholy has been driven away by its terrible embarrassment.

2- The second kiss is probably even more embarrassing for him.

Idia is waiting s/o in the most isolated and shady corner of the garden. Sitting on the ground with only Lucius dozing near his ankles, he sincerely hopes that they will arrive as soon as possible with lunch, partly because he feels safer to have them around, partly because he is really hungry.

When he finally sees them arriving in the distance with the two paper bags he cannot hide a shy smile.

"Sorry if I'm late!"

They reach him, their red faces for running.

They sit next to him and immediately hand him the lunch packet, but as soon as the smell of food reaches Idia's nostrils, his stomach growls greedily requesting to be filled.

"S-s-sorry…!"

This is the first thing Idia can say, while he looks in shame at the surprised face of s/o.

But if at that moment Idia would like to disappear into the bowels of the earth, the gesture of s/o petrifies him. With a light and amused laugh they bend over his lap, and playfully they leave him a kiss on his suffering stomach.

The breath disappears from Idia's throat. Now he no longer feels an empty stomach, but full of fluttering butterflies. He does not know what a strange day it is today, but he is sure that he will die before the end of it.

3- Idia never has the courage to speak too much, not even in front of the sweet attitude of s/o. But in the evening, when they take him back to his room, he finds their lips resting on his chest, before goodnight.

"What is all this for, s/o?"

The question comes out of him spontaneous, probably because of the complicity of tiredness.

Only when their gaze questions him does Idia regain his social incapacity.

"l-I didn't mean to say ... that is, I don't mind ... but .. here ..."

They smile, shaking their heads cheerfully.

"I'm just glad you're here with me."

They simply answer to him.

Idia says nothing, just stares at them. Then, with a mechanical gesture, he grabs their wrist, to pull them against him. His red face now hidden in their hair.

"... ok."

[writings-are-moving-soon]

I trusted you.

Prompt List 1; 2. “I trusted you.” Author's Note: This is a short story fiction that was supposed to be flash fiction. It wound up in three parts ^.^; Please still enjoy it. My accent writing is faulty and I apologize for anything that is incorrect. Please forgive me for any mistakes you might find.

Pairing: Filip "Chibs" Telford x Shay Blackwood (OC belongs to war-wolf-rogue)

~ Information About Shay ~ Werewolf shifter; usually ride a black and red Yamaha dual sport motorcycle Description: Straight, French-braided, low-back length, black hair; German Shepherd colorings for werewolf fur; Green eyes for human, amber eyes for werewolf. Warnings: Slight suicidal talk, sexual & suggestive contexts, angst, slight rape talkWord Count: 829

You were sound asleep in the bedroom after one of Chibs’s rough nights with nightmares. He assured you that he would just go and read for a while in his office. If he passed out at his desk before he could come back to bed, he surely wouldn’t mind it. He’d done it countless times before and it wouldn’t be the last.

It was close to 3 in the morning, when someone silently broke into Chibs’s house. Whoever it was, they knew the layout pretty decently and easily found out where the outlaw was since there was only one room with lights on that spilled out into the hallway.

Chibs was deeply engrossed into reading one of his various opened books that you had come to see laying out on the desk and tables. He didn’t even know anyone was even moving around inside the house or at the door until he heard the sound of a knock against the door frame.

Chibs startled and looked up, thinking it was you he was going to see. It wasn’t. Instead, he saw one of the older guards from the Stockton jail who had frequently wanted to have certain visits with your old man during his time there. The guard closed the door to the office after stepping inside.

“Wha’ the hell are ye doin’ here?” Chibs yelled. This was his home. He was supposed to be safe in it, and now he had to worry about another break-in.

“Shh. You wouldn’t want that pretty thing in your bedroom to come in here and get hurt, now would you?” The guard smirked a little. He knew the answer already of course.

Chibs faltered at that. No, he’d never want you, his everything, to get hurt. You wouldn’t know what you’d be walking into, but it wouldn’t exactly stop you from getting to him.

The guard and Chibs had a heated conversation that wound up in a fighting match because this guard was corrupted and had many times sexually assaulted Chibs before. It was slowly turning out to be a little too much for Chibs to fight off. He was trying his hardest, but it was quite a struggle.

The yelling and other noise woke you up. You bolted out of bed, running through the house. Your werewolf eyesight helps you see in the dark.

You immediately had the door to the office open. Your hands shifted to claws as you went forward to the unfamiliar person, piercing his flesh and dragging him away from Chibs.

The guy immediately was running his mouth, saying Chibs wanted it and other nonsensical things that didn’t make sense out of the context of the situation you’d come into. Taking a moment to look at Chibs, you saw him shaking like a leaf in a strong wind. Unfortunately, you could tell that this was going to lead to a rape of sorts. Your eyes narrowed, your grip tightened. Your mind processed what it had needed to enough. Before you had a single moment to care, you simply broke the guy’s neck and made sure he’d died.

“Beta wolf really needs to start learning how to not be so soft.” The werewolf side of you had spoken those words before you’d even humanly thought about it. And the moment it left your mouth entirely was the same instant you fully came back to the normal human-looking you.

“Really, Shay?! Do ye really think I wan’ this shite to keep happenin’ to me, lass?!” He was angry, in disbelief, that you of all people had said that. He’d heard it before. He didn’t ask for this to happen. He didn’t sit there and say yes to anything happening.

You were left speechless of yourself. Your mind is reeling from the one wrong statement that you hadn’t even meant to say by your own human standards. At least, not meaning it in that way that it had come out. Now, all he saw was the insensitive side of the beast that could worm its way out sometimes with no tact. You weren’t even sure you could fix this with words. It was trying to be meant as perhaps just from a safety perspective? It was truly hard to say and play catch-up.

“I…Chibs, tha- that wasn’t…” Gods, you truly didn’t have any words.

”I trusted ye.” Chibs said as you could hear and feel how broken and hurt he was.

If you hadn’t felt like a monster before, you certainly felt like a huge one now. It made you feel like you wanted to go off someplace and kill yourself so you’d never make this mistake again, especially when you couldn’t promise that it would never happen at another time.

An alpha wasn’t supposed to hurt others beneath them and that they cared for. And as for being a lover to a Beta wolf or anyone under them, it was even more of a devastating feeling from many levels.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part 2 https://war-wolf-rogue.tumblr.com/post/659621657307152384/i-am-so-sorry-i-can-go

Part 3 https://war-wolf-rogue.tumblr.com/post/660382930706776064/stop-i-dont-want-to-be-alone

[reversecreek]

MEET THE NPCS...

BOBBY YANG, “BIG BOB” .

1. how old are they and what do they look like?

thirty-four. implausibly tall. the day magda first saw a sketch of slenderman she thought of him. when her aunt shelly pulled up the dirt road to abernathy creek magda remembers seeing him through a dusty back window with his head bowed to avoid getting tree leaves in his eyes, joint between his lips, dungarees dirty and half unbuckled. one side of his hair is buzzed with no apparent style intention and he has a weed leaf tattooed behind his left ear. an elephant on his thigh. a name on his ankle he often wears a plaster over. once it soaked through and fell off in the creek and, newly glossy in the sun, nine year old magda reached to give it a blunt and shameless prod. big bob never explained who the name belonged to, he only reached to thumb at the minari growing by the water bed and talk about the fact it was a "versatile little sucker”. 

2. if applicable, where and when did they meet your muse?

big bob introduced himself as such and magda raised her eyebrow in disbelief, the soul of a disgruntled pensioner in a seven yr old’s body. magda didn’t rly talk to anyone when she first arrived in her new home, verging on mute. she was angry at the move, angry that her dad hadn’t called her when she got there, angry that she didn’t know her mother’s voice to imagine it telling her everything was okay. the world made her so angry she didn’t want to acknowledge it. she sat outside in silence for a long time letting a ladybug crawl over her hand, and big bob didn’t ask anything of her, he only schlepped closer and presented her with a buttercup. she looked at it like it’d spat in her face but took it nonetheless. it was strange having an actual bed, if you could call a bare mattress that, used to sleeping on the sofa in shelly’s old trailer, and the springs nipped at her like a dog demanding treats, so she wandered outside in one of shelly’s big tie dye shirts like a nightdress, searching for the moon. big bob was standing out there already in the overgrown grass, stark naked, chin lifted to gawk at the moon himself. magda didn’t disturb him. this is when she first discovered his habit of naked sleepwalking. abernathy creek felt like a bird house overrun with all kinds of eccentric, squawking parakeets. it was a lot for a seven yr old to take in. this was a strange reality she’d never signed up for, swallowed by the commune to overheat inside it’s belly. 

3. what kind of a presence do they have in your muse’s life? do they have a positive or negative relationship?

bob’s definitely a character. three times now he’s slipped hallucinogens into magda’s tea without her knowing under the impression that this is just harmless fun and he’s actually helping her by pushing her little boat to bob along the ocean of enlightenment, once at as young as 16. every time she realises he’s like “y’just got bobbeddddd!” and magda’s like here we go ig. told her the raw earth has healing properties to explain why he’d dug up the grass just to rub his hands in the soil and lay there like a panting, overheated dog. he’s an important component to abernathy creek and oversees a lot of the agriculture there. rigged up the irrigation system himself using copper pipes that magda suspects were stolen. the beat up camper van that’s usually parked up behind abernathy and hidden under leafy branches appeared when he did, apparently, although he insists it belongs to everyone. he leads the crusades to drive it up to the mountains and take a group of abernathy creek residents shroom picking. he’s in charge of drying them for selling, too. jack of all trades, really. magda claims not to care for him (or anyone) but she still walked out onto the grass, took his hand and lead him inside whenever she found him sleepwalking at night in her teens. once a group of kids were daring each other to get closer when he was out there and magda threw a stone so hard at one of their shin’s it split it open and made them scatter. but again, magda “does not care about him”. the jury is not convinced.

4. are they revered in irving? do they have bad blood with anyone?

honestly everyone in irving probably thinks he’s a rly strange guy and i won’t fk around. he kind of is. wears many necklaces around his neck n one is just a pouch that has a prehistoric mosquito encased in a little piece of amber inside. sometimes magda wonders if he likes to play up to his reputation by putting it on a little bit. once she saw him suddenly jerking his head like a pecking chicken and saying “g’warn GET” to scare a random middle aged hiker into galloping in the opposite direction in the trees near abernathy. has a masterful knowledge of bird songs and can imitate them all impeccably. sometimes does this instead of replying with words. never cares about the holes in his shoes where his toes poke out. always seems to be turning a rusty coin between his fingers like it helps him think. he makes moonshine that will knock u off ur feet tho which is always a good time if ur lucky enough to try it. he has a very rich n warm voice like a log fire or a gooey chocolate brownie. even with all of his oddities he sounds kind. he’s very unconventional n doesn’t abide by rules of society a lot but he’s quite funny n a good time. makes engaging smalltalk if u treat him with respect. weird but admittedly a tiny bit wonderful. 

OTIS WOLFE.

1. how old are they and what do they look like?

forty-six but he looks older. the skin beneath his eyes is subtly purpled like it’s been dyed by a lick of beetroot juice. he has a very charismatic walk which doesn’t sound like it makes sense but it does to look at him. he walks everywhere buoyantly and with purpose. very high energy in his good days. lives everything in large quantities, good and bad. always used to wear a tan leather bomber jacket when magda was growing up but he forgot it w her one visit n it’s the only time she’s known him to call up two days after leaving to ask if she’d seen it. magda lied and said she hadn’t. she still has it to this day. sleeps in it on her bad days. otis has a smile so big it shines like live wires are sparking in his mouth. magda’s fingertips prickle like she’s an hour recovering from shoving a fork into a plug socket whenever she sees it. she used to think that’s what excitement felt like. that used to be true.

2. what kind of a presence do they have in your muse’s life? do they have a positive or negative relationship?

it’s very complicated. magda knows her dad isn’t a good person but she knows he isn’t a bad person either. sometimes it’s more frustrating to see things in grey because you just want something solid to take shape that u can actually put ur finger on. she finds herself perpetually stood at a fork in the road between believing in him still and deciding he’s no good. sometimes she’ll start walking in one direction only to realise it loops back on itself and she’s right back where she started. otis has given her a lot of fun “adventures”. taught her how to juggle. they stayed in a hotel on someone else’s credit card once and racked up a gargantuan tab ordering every form of room service and renting godzilla and the matrix on pay per view when she was 11. sometimes he’d use her in gimmicks where she had to lie and pretend she had a health condition so they could get a few bucks off charitable strangers on a street corner and under the veil of youth magda found playing up these roles funny because who would ever believe that? wasn’t everyone in the world so stupid except them? it was nice being part of his team. his “little wolfie”. but then a lot of things weren’t nice either. he’s left her stranded on the side of the road with nowhere to go on more than one occasion. he’s passed out in motel corridors and she’s had to lug him into a bed. he’s forgotten almost every birthday apart from one where he sent a card with five dollars inside and handwriting so squiggly she could tell he was drunk when he wrote it. he doesn’t know she likes to sing because he’s only ever listened when he’s fallen asleep. otis is all of magda’s heart and that’s why sometimes she likes to forget that it’s beating. 

3. are they revered in irving? do they have bad blood with anyone?

he’s very flighty n rarely in irving any more tbh but was more when magda was younger n his visits were a little less sporadic. probably owes a bunch of people money for some reason or another. smashed up fannie’s recently when he turned up drunk and got ahead of himself on a giddy n frenzied rampage in the name of “fun” n “just having a laugh”. magda’s aunt shelly really doesn’t get on with her brother n thinks he’s a complete deadbeat waste of space n resents him a lot for the impact he’s had on magda. magda remembers being little and peeking through a crack in shelly’s trailer door when he turned up drunk one time to collect her for a visit n shelly wouldn’t let him in. something along the lines of “you don’t give a rat’s ass about that little girl” and “she worships you, y’know that? most of the time, you don’t even remember her name”. magda crept back onto the sofa and pretended to be asleep by the time she came inside.

4. if your muse is no longer in contact with them, how did the relationship end? did your muse get closure over this?

magda slowly stopped trying to keep in contact over the years. it got embarrassing trying so hard when she didn’t get much back. like pushing a boulder all the way up a hill only to watch it roll back down again. it’s probably contributed a lot towards magda’s inability to really try with people like she should, especially when her heart’s involved. she doesn’t want to be humiliated again. magda hasn’t spoken to her dad in person in almost a year. they had a phone call about seven months back but it turned out to be a butt dial and he hung up because he was in the middle of a conversation at some bar about the moon landing conspiracy. magda’s playlist that i have for her is called “a rodeo clown in a revolving door” which is basically the role otis serves in magda’s life. always in and out. never constant. gone more than he’s there, especially lately. idk if magda will ever get closure over that. she certainly hasn’t now. pouts my fuckable lips to the side w a hand on hip and triple f’s prominent.